Gypsy king

CHAPTER NINETEEN

DASH

“IS this the house where you grew up?” Bryce pulled into Dad’s driveway.

It wasn’t really the question she was asking. She wanted to know if this was where Mom had died.

I glanced at the sidewalk. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” She put the car in park. “I thought maybe you would have moved. After . . .”

“No. Dad thought it would show weakness.”

Her mouth fell open. “What?”

“That’s what he told us anyway. But really, I think he stayed because he couldn’t fathom the idea of living somewhere else. He bought this house for Mom a few years after they were married.”

This was the house where they had loved. Where they’d brought Nick and me home from the hospital. Where they’d made our family.

The house was painted a soft green. The trim was maroon and matched the front door. Dad had had it repainted a few years ago because it was starting to chip. He’d told the painters to pick the exact same colors because those were the colors Mom had picked four decades prior.

“She’s in the walls,” I told Bryce. “The floors and rooms and hallways. That’s why he couldn’t leave. It’s not her house. The house is her.”

“He loves her.”

I nodded. “Above anything else, she was precious to him. At least, I thought so. Now . . . I’m not sure.”

Maybe I didn’t know Dad at all. The father I’d admired wouldn’t have cheated on his wife.

Why? It didn’t make sense. When Dad loved Mom so much, why would he take another woman? How could he do that to her?

We sat for a few moments because I couldn’t bring myself to reach for the handle on the door. I was so angry on behalf of my mother, who I missed every damn day.

How could he?

“Dash.” Bryce placed her hand on my knee. “I can hear the questions popping into your mind. Ask him. Get your answers.”

She looked at the house and I followed her gaze. Dad was standing in the front window, watching as I debated whether or not to get out of the car. Even from a distance and through the glass, I could see a gash on his cheek. I’d hit him harder than I’d thought. Made sense because my knuckles were killing me today.

I’d never hit my father before. Never would have dreamed of it.

Or, I had.

I blew out a deep breath. Bryce was right. I had to get some answers. “Let’s go.”

We exited the car in unison, and I took her hand, marching us to the side door. I didn’t knock. We found Dad waiting on the leather couch in the living room.

Without a word, I sat in a chair across from him. Bryce took the other in the room. The pair used to match the couch, but Mom had had them reupholstered a few months before she’d died to a deep green. They were ugly as sin, but the second Dad was ready to get replacements, I was taking these two chairs home.

Dad’s eyes were red rimmed and his skin pale. That gash was a lot worse up close and could probably use a couple of stitches. His salt and pepper hair was a mess, oily and in need of a good shampoo.

While I’d somehow managed to fall asleep in Bryce’s bed last night, Dad looked like he hadn’t slept a wink.

“I want to know why.” I broke the silence, wanting to talk first. This visit wasn’t for Dad; he didn’t deserve to run the show. “I want to know why you did this to her.”

“It was a mistake.” Dad’s voice cracked. “Your mother and Amina were friends. Best friends.”

Bryce stiffened, her face snapping my way. “Did you know that?”

Yes. I stayed quiet. If I told her about that stupid yearbook picture, she’d get pissed and leave. I needed Bryce for this today. Having her here provided a buffer. I’d keep my temper in check with her in the room. I couldn’t risk her finding out and leaving me to deal with Dad alone.

Dad’s gaze held mine. He knew I was lying by omission, but there was no way he’d speak up, not when he knew my white lie was nothing compared to the sins he’d committed.

“Keep going,” I ordered.

“We spent a lot of time together, the three of us. Your mom never left Amina out. She loved Amina.”

That love was apparently one-sided if her best friend had slept with her husband.

“I didn’t know.” Dad hung his head. “I didn’t see it. I think maybe your mom did and that was why she began to put some distance between her and Amina their senior year. But I didn’t see it.”

“See what?” I asked.

“Amina was in love with you,” Bryce guessed.

Dad nodded. “She was my friend. That’s all it ever was for me. I’ve never loved another woman other than Chrissy.”

“Then how could you fuck her friend and get her pregnant?” My fists pounded on my knees.

Bryce’s hand stretched across the space between our chairs, covering one of my fists. Thank fuck, she’d come with me today. I already wanted to leave. But her hand held firm, keeping me in my seat.

“Amina left Clifton Forge after high school. Didn’t think much of it when she and your mom stopped talking for a couple of years. Figured they’d drifted apart. But then Amina called her one random afternoon. Came to visit and spent the weekend in town. They came to party at the clubhouse one night.”

“And that was when—”

“No.” Dad shook his head. “Not then. Amina went back to Denver. But after that first trip, she came back every year. Always in the summer. Always for a weekend. She’d come party at the clubhouse, get drunk, hook up. You boys were young and the clubhouse wasn’t really your mom’s scene anymore. Wasn’t really mine either, truthfully. But Amina was single so we didn’t think much of it.”

The story was progressing, and my skin was crawling. But I kept my jaw screwed shut.

“Chrissy and I hit a rough patch. You and Nick were boys then. My God, we fought. All the time. Every day.”

“When? I don’t remember you ever fighting.”

“She hid it.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “She put a smile on when you both were home because she didn’t want you to know. We’d tolerate one another and then duke it out when you and Nick were asleep. She didn’t like how things were going with the club, we were taking risks and I was keeping stuff from her. It got so bad, she kicked me out.”

“But you always lived here.” I would have remembered if he’d moved out.

“You were only eight. Nick was twelve. We told you both I was going on a run. A long one. And I spent three weeks living at the clubhouse.”

Now that trip, I remembered. Dad had never been gone so long before and Mom was sad. Because she missed him. Guess there was more to it.

“You missed my go-cart race. I was mad at you for being gone because I won and you didn’t see me win.” I scoffed. “But you were in town the whole time.”

“I watched you win that race from behind a pair of binoculars about a hundred yards away.”

“You lied to us.”

He nodded. “Because your mom asked me to.”

“You don’t get to blame anything on her,” I snapped. “Ever.”

Dad held up a hand. “I’m not. This is on me. All of it.”

“So while you were living at the clubhouse, Amina came up for a visit,” Bryce said.

“Yeah. We had a party. The pair of us got drunk and high. Things are hazy but I took her to bed. The next morning, I woke up and knew I’d made a horrible mistake. Told her the same. She started crying and confessed to being in love with me. Amina hated herself for it. She loved Chrissy too.”

Who the fuck cared about Amina? She didn’t get to love Dad. He wasn’t hers to love. And she sure as hell didn’t love Mom, not if she’d fuck her friend’s husband. For the first time, I couldn’t find it in myself to feel sorry that Amina had been stabbed to death.